


Nerve

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Adrenaline, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Comeplay, Creampie, Explicit Language, Knifeplay, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Sadism, Sex Toys, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I adore the unreasonable requests you make, long for the way you’ll swindle me into moments like these. (Die's POV)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nerve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tcharlatan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tcharlatan/gifts).



> Prompt: Die has quick hands and he plays a knife game with Kyo’s hand as his proof he will not harm. He misses just the slightest and...  
> Beta Readers: tcharlatan  
> Song[s]: "When You Sleep" by J

Die’s POV

I’ve never been sure what it is that possesses you to want the things that you do. You’ve managed to convince me a thousand and one times to do the most insane things with you... for you... _to_ you. And tonight, I think we’re hitting the peak of your insanity and quite possibly the cap of my ability to deal with your crazy.

And yet... I love every single second of it. I adore the unreasonable requests you make, long for the way you’ll swindle me into moments like these. I shiver a little as I look down at the ebony table between us and the gleaming silver knife that lies between us. It’s elegant, a dagger of sorts, a short blade and a fancy handle with a proper hilt. I have no idea where you got it or why you even have it, but I suspect it’s for moments like these, these strange indulgences you have.

You watch me, this intense sort of look on your face, your eyes almost pitch black rather than their usual brown. It’s funny how I’m the only person on this earth that knows it means you’re aroused beyond belief. Everyone else takes it for anger and they couldn’t be more wrong.

I reach out, my long fingers caressing the hilt of the blade and you shudder, reaching to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it over the back of the chair. I bite my lip as I lift the dagger into my hand, feeling the weight of it in my palm. This is so fucking dangerous... and so goddamned stupid. And yet, I know I’m not even going to deny you this.

You place one hand flat on the table and the other snakes down to your crotch, groping at your already hard cock. I swallow thickly and stand up, leaning over the table, my own hand flat on the wood for balance. “Take your dick out.” You do it and I groan in reaction to seeing it. Even after all these years we’ve been together, I still get excited seeing your cock. It’s almost silly.

You start to almost frantically fist your cock, bucking your hips up into your hand. “Do it,” you breathe, your eyes glued to the knife in my hand.

I take a deep breath and tentatively touch the blade on the table next to your hand, starting out slow, placing it between each finger and then the next, going faster the next round through. You’re so excited, your hand flying over your cock and it’s making mine swell in my pants. I go just a little bit faster, my pulse pounding through me, panic verging up inside me as I stare at only your hand, focusing on what I’m doing. I’m sure the aim is to actually cut you, because you so dearly love pain, but I don’t want to be the one to do it like this and so I focus so hard on it, trying to make sure I keep myself steady and my aim in the same exact place.

You groan loudly, bucking your hips and I almost hesitate, coming so close to stabbing the knife into something other than the table. “Die,” you hiss out my name in a way that makes my blood run hot. You’re still staring right at the blade as I move it smoothly between your fingers, the table taking the brunt of the damage from what I’m doing.

Your hips snap up and you let out a strangled scream and for a moment my eyes leave your hand, watching as you claw at yourself, breaking skin across your abdomen. And in that moment, I miss, something doesn’t feel right about where I’ve landed the knife and I look down. I’ve barely nicked you, but blood swells up from the wound and you throw your head back, giving your cock one final jerk as you paint yourself in white. Your hand goes automatically to your lips and you suck the blood away, moaning as you do so, still writhing in your chair.

And I can’t fucking help it, not one damn bit. I leave the knife where it’s at, stuck in the table, pulling my cock free of my pants as I come to you. I sink to my knees and yank you from the chair, shoving your pants around your thighs as I tug your ass toward me. I reach down and pull the small plug from your ass, smirking at you. “Dirty fucking slut.” You groan in response, grabbing the chair with one hand, still sucking the blood from your other hand.

I shove in, not wasting a single moment of this precious time. I need to feel your heat around me, need to feel how gloriously my cock slides into your ass. I throw back my head, groaning as I start to move you up and down on my dick, just feeling your tightness and perfection as it overwhelms me. “Oh god, Kyo,” I groan out as I finally start to thrust into your body. The chair slides against the wall with a thud and I use that new position as leverage. You’re still pretty much sitting on my lap as I fuck you up against the chair, watching my cock slide in and out of your glorious ass. My hands move from your hips to the two perfect swells of flesh the gods have graced you with. I part them, slowing down for a moment to marvel at how I look as I join with you, but you whine at me, trying to thrust back. The moment is too desperate for me to be slowing down like this and you need more than you’ve already given yourself, I know you do.

With a groan, I slap your ass and slip one hand around your mid-section, holding you tight, feeling your arm move as you jerk yourself off again. My other hand slides over your throat, grasping you firmly, but not enough to bruise or truly hurt. You just like to think you’re being choked, to let your body believe in what isn’t really happening. I’ve always thought it has to be something about you using your voice for a living, maybe the idea of your most fragile instrument being broken sends you straight towards bliss. Or maybe you’re just the sadomasochistic freak you claim to be. Either way, I love the fuck out of you, and either way I accept you.

My teeth graze your shoulder and you let out an almost inhuman sound as you strain for your orgasm. Your whole body is shaking, your ass clenching harshly around my cock as I fuck you harder than I think I ever have. I’m not truly sure how much longer I can hold on; you feel like heaven around me.

Your breath hitches, this tiny, almost insignificant little sound, and you’re gone. I slip my hand down from your abdomen to your cock, letting you fill my hand with your cum as I pound into you with a renewed sense of abandonment. My legs slip wider to brace myself and the last few thrusts I give you are full-force, not a single ounce of my strength held back as I slam into your body with all that I am. And then I’m gone, sailing into that amazing place where only the physical exists for a single moment in time.

When I come back to, I’m slumped against you, my hips still pistoning gently against you, as though my body doesn’t want this to end just yet. You’re making little noises, clutching the chair, your cheek against the wood. I’ve smeared your cum all the way down your side, my hand clutching at your hip even now. I give you a few final thrusts and then pull out, watching as cum dribbles back out of you onto the black tiled floor. So fucking dirty. My fingers slide against your asshole for a moment and I murmur, “Push it out.” You shiver for a moment and then my cum slides out over my fingertips. “Did you like that, my little slut?”

You grunt and then turn your head, smirking at me. “Don’t call me little.” But slut, you apparently don’t mind. I grin at you and shift away, grabbing the kitchen towel to wipe you and the floor up with. Dirty, indeed.

**The End**


End file.
